Tasks
by Hannah Catherine
Summary: Set during PS SS, with implications for HBP, this story examines the question of why Snape saved Harry. Was it a simple life debt, or were darker, more sinister forces at work? One shot, complete.


**Tasks**

Severus Snape strode into the Hogwarts Staff Room and dumped a pile of books onto a nearby table. What a rotten lesson! That wretched Potter child had been insufferable as usual. Every day it became clearer that the boy was just like his father. And Longbottom! A reincarnation of Pettigrew if ever he saw one.

Snape's eyes wandered around the room, taking in the familiar sights… overstuffed chairs, bookshelves, cabinets, a well-stocked mini-bar for those days when the students just got to be too much and you needed a nip of something, and…

Oh, no, please! Not that! Anything but that…

Snape stared in horror, his mouth slightly open. "No… please… no…" he murmured under his breath.

"My thoughts exactly, Severus," Professor McGonagall commented grimly. Snape had been so wrapped up in his cocoon of fear he hadn't noticed her entrance.

"But Minerva he couldn't… he wouldn't. I know he's done it many times in the past, but it's too cruel, too evil."

"The proof is right there, I'm afraid. It seems he's up to his old tricks." The line of her mouth was so tight it wasn't obvious that she had lips.

"Perhaps it's not what it looks like." Snape grasped at the desperate hope like a drowning man who has just spotted a life preserver.

"I had hoped the same thing, and I can assure you, it is indeed…"

"Do not speak that name!"

"Fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself."

"As if it weren't fearful enough already! But he's really brought back… he's really resurrected…"

"So it would seem."

"He has given new life to…"

"The Hogwarts Chore Wheel!"

Snape examined the hated Chore Wheel, poking it gingerly with his wand as if he expected it to blow up or sprout fangs. Its bright, cheerful colours seemed to mock him.

"There's a note," McGonagall commented dryly. "Shall I read it to you?"

Snape nodded dumbly. He wondered if he might be in shock.

McGonagall read without a trace of emotion, "Dear Hogwarts Faculty and Staff: As you know, a great deal of work goes into the running of a school of this size and complexity, and it is your efforts that make Hogwarts the bastion of educational excellence that it is…"

He's serious! Snape realized. He honestly believes this nonsense he's spouting!

McGonagall continued. "… I must prevail upon your understanding and good natures and ask you to shoulder certain incidental tasks that may crop up during the school year. I am sure you recall how to use a Chore Wheel, although previous attempts to do so have been unsuccessful…"

Oh yes, they remembered. There are three things in your life you never forget: your first love, the effects of a Cruciatus Curse, and the Chore Wheel. These three are the most exquisite and refined forms of torture the human mind can dream up.

"…Because I know none of my faculty and staff would deliberately sabotage such an important tool in the running of Hogwarts, I can only assume that the misfortunes that befell the previous Chore Wheels have been purely coincidental." McGonagall blushed, which was about as common a sight as snow in the tropics, at least when she was sober. Snape knew she had personally disposed of the last three Chore Wheels. Not that he blamed her, of course; he thought she deserved applause.

"…As there have been some difficulties in the past, I will remind you how the Chore Wheel works. As you see, your names are printed on the outside ring. This ring is colour coded for ease of interpretation, and because the Staff Room could use some cheering up…"

The Chore Wheel couldn't cheer up the Staff Room, Snape thought darkly. The Chore Wheel made the Staff Room cry.

"…The Heads of Houses will be represented by their House colours. I have taken the liberty of assigning colours to other staff members at my discretion, although I endeavoured to do so in a way that will be agreeable to all…"

He probably really did, Snape mused. He probably genuinely thought assigning the bubblegum pink space to Argus Filch would make the old caretaker's day.

"…Each month I myself or, in my absence, Deputy Head Minerva McGonagall will…" she blanched.

"Traitor!" Snape muttered, just loudly enough for her to hear.

McGonagall composed herself. "…Will spin the Chore Wheel. The inner circle is comprised of a list of tasks. You will be expected to perform the task listed by your name..."

"We could just get rid of it now. He'd never know who did it!"

McGonagall gestured back to the note. "…Because of several unfortunate past incidents, I have decided it would be prudent that, rather than the usual paper Chore Wheel, I acquire one made of metal instead…"

Snape groaned out loud.

"…And have attached it to the wall with the strongest Sticking Charm known to wizard kind…"

Brief but ardent thoughts of suicide flashed through Snape's mind.

"…I am sure you will agree this is for the benefit of the staff and the school as a whole…"

And there was the mini-bar, looking even more inviting than usual. Perhaps, Snape considered, the Chore Wheel would not look so frightening through the haze of a pint of Firewhiskey. Or sixteen.

"…Please see the Chore Wheel for your first month's assignments. Fondest regards, Albus Dumbledore."

"He really signed it 'fondest regards'?" That was truly evil. The mind rebelled.

"He did, Severus."

This was a nightmare. "And… how bad is it? What are our…" he nearly choked on the word, "…Tasks?"

"Well, let's see. This month I, Minerva McGonagall… look, he's even drawn a little cat by my name…"

Snape swore briefly but eloquently.

"…I am in charge of ensuring the Staff Room is clean and the mini-bar is restocked regularly."

Snape glared at her. "That's the second best assignment! Who did you have to knock off to get that one?"

"The best assignment, however, goes to Flitwick this month."

"Typical." Sure enough, Snape saw Flitwick's name lined up with the instruction, "Vanquish the Dark Lord."

McGonagall looked disgusted. "So all he has to do is come back in a month's time and say he couldn't do it because he wasn't the Chosen One, and he gets off! That's it!" Her tone suggested this was a feat similar to escaping Azkaban.

Snape looked at the Wheel of Doom impatiently. "And what is to be my fate?"

"I'm so sorry, Severus."

"It's not 'Kill Dumbledore' again this month, is it? I had that last time. He fights back, you know. I don't see why he puts it on the Chore Wheel if he doesn't actually want…"

"It's a bit of fun for Albus. The routine jobs he performs as Headmaster can be so monotonous. He likes a bit of variety. It livens things up."

"That bear trap livened things up a little too much for my taste."

"Albus apologized for that."

"So that's my task for the month? He'd better not have bought another bear trap."

"No, it's worse."

"What, an elephant trap this time?"

"No. Actually, your task this month isn't to kill Professor Dumbledore. It's…" Unable to say the words, she merely pointed to the chart.

Snape turned even paler. "He can't be serious!"

"Even when he's joking, the Headmaster is remarkably serious about it."

Snape read the Chore Wheel again just to be sure. "Save Harry Potter from Mortal Peril and Certain Death."

"I'm sorry, Severus."

Through clenched teeth, Snape asked, "Do I have to save him from both, or can I pick one or the other?"


End file.
